Molly froze. 'Oh my God,' she thought, 'I can't believe this.
There is no way that this is happening to me.'
If it had been a little less shocking of a situation she probably
would have laughed at the almost-too-nonchalant way the young man infront
of her was squeezing cantaloupes to test ripeness while hiding behind a
pair of Oakleys and a white Nike hat. Even if he had been wearing an
entire gorilla suit Molly felt sure she'd have recognized him just as
keenly - she almost know the way he looked better than she knew the way she did.
It was Howie. Molly swallowed hard. She couldn't believe that right in front of
her, just two fruits over, stood Howie Dorough. Ever since she had seen
his trademark wink in the "As Long As You Love Me" video she had dreamed
of this moment. Well, not exactly THIS moment, Molly's sarcastic side still
managed to point out. Usually it was always quite a bit more dramatic.
Howie's eyes scanned a crowd and fell on her. As their eyes lock they're
both swept away by love, thus starting an agonizing search by Howie to
find her, finally ending in the courtyard of her campus (preferrably in
the fall), with Howie strolling toward her with love emanating from his
gorgeous brown eyes. Then there was the ever famous meet-and-greet
scenario, where, as Howie shakes her hand, she slips him a note reading,
"Meet me after the show by the-" ... something or other. Molly never quite
knew where. No matter - after they met at the unknown location they took a
long walk, discussing their hopes, dreams, fears ...
Molly shook her head slightly. 'All that matters nothing,
dumbass,' she chided herself. 'The fact is that the man of your dreams is
standing right in front of you (now weighing potatoes, as she had slowly
followed him on his hunt for produce), and you'll never get this
opportunity again. What exactly are you going to do?'
Howie sighed. This really was the last time he'd volunteer to do
the grocery shopping any time soon. What does the perfect melon actually
feel like? Howie was clueless, not to mention tired. After a 7:30 AMradio
appearance to promote the new album, a 10:00 photo shoot, an 11:30 phone
interview with Bop magazine (stay true to to those who helped put you on
the map, the Boys always said - besides, Bop had an uncanny talent for
recycling the same interview for months), and a 1:00 board meeting to
interview more prospective management teams, Howie just wanted to relax.
'But you did say you'd get groceries, so you dug your own grave,'
he reminded himself. His biggest wish at the moment was that he wouldn't
run into any hysterical 12 year olds clammoring for an autograph on any
scrap of paper that they could scrounge up. Howie loved the fans, no doubt
about it, but a guy has limits.
He had been relieved when he noticed only a few elderly shoppers
in the small market he'd pulled into on the way home. He browsed the
aisles, now in search of baking soda.
'What does baking soda do, really?' wondered Howie.
Molly took a deep breath. 'Alright, Mol, now's your chance - you
can do it!' her inner cheeleader urged. She smiled and was about to
approach him when fear took over.
'Oh my God, this is Howie Dorough! Why would he talk to ME?' she
thought with dismay. 'Look at me!' Molly looked at her short, chubby,5'2"
frame, dressed in cargo pants ('They probably make my hips look huge-
huger!'), and a rust-colored top ('This color ... what was I thinking?').
She caught sight of her face as she passed the metal end of an aisle and
silently cursed the bespectacled round face and the now terrified blue
eyes looking back at her, surrounded by golden brown hair (a color that
she was proud to say she had finally achieved after years of making
herself a redhead). 'What the hell was I thinking?!'
'Shh,' soothed her self-esteem. 'You're you and you're a wonderful
person - he'll love you!'
'Besides,' reminded her rational side, 'when will you ever get
this chance again?' Molly nodded with determination. 'Damn good thing I'm
schitzophrenic,' she thought with a tiny smile. She strode up the aisle
to where Howie seemed a bit perplexed with a box of baking soda, and tried
to make herself look extremely interested in the spice selection. She
picked up a small container of chives ... And promptly dropped it.
'Damnit! Nice job, stupid!' she thought, mortified, as the chives
rolled slowly over towards Howie, hitting his boot before stopping.
Howie looked down and picked up the container that had just hit
his foot. He glanced over to see who dropped it and saw a very embarrassed
young lady of about 19, trying to melt through the floor and disappear. He
smiled and walked over to her.
"Did you want this?" he asked, holding out the chives.
She looked up, and looked as if she was going to ... something,
before she smiled slightly and took back the bottle. "Yes, thanks," she
said softly. He smiled again. She knew him, he was sure of it. He could just
tell. For some reason, though, he was glad. She wasn't a "looker", as AJ
would say, but she was sort of cute and she seemed really nice too. He
took off his sunglasses. "Well there you go. I was just trying to figure
out what baking soda is really for - do you know?", he asked, looking at
her with a jokingly intense stare.
Molly laughed. "No, I'm pretty clueless too," she said. All the
while her mind was reeling. Standing in front of her was a guy who
occupied more wall space in her dorm than the paint did. She had doodled
his name countless times in her notebooks, and had had so many
conversations about what she'd actually do when she met him that she was
amazed that she could still speak. Granted she had been made fun of afew
times, and even her own mother had called her immature, but Molly didn't
care. And now she was staring into those same brown eyes she'd dreamed
about for months ... And they were discussing baking soda.
"So what's your name?" Howie asked.
"Molly," she replied, damning her parents for not giving her a
name you could whisper seductively, like Monica or Jeanette. 'Ooo, maybe
not Jeanette, scratch that,' she thought, 'but Molly? I hate that name...'
"I like that name!" Howie said, grinning. Molly immediately
forgave her parents. "I'm Howie." He stuck out his hand.
She shook it. "Hi, nice to meet you," she said, grinning back.
"Same here! Are you from around here?"
"No, I'm actually from Chicago. My family is here on Spring Break,
and they said they'd pay my way to Disney World too, so I figured, hey,
free trip to my favorite place ever, why not?"
Howie laughed - God, she had made him laugh! "Can't blame you! How
long are you here for?" he asked.
"Another week." She felt she should have said something more, but
that was all she could manage. She made a mental note to thank her dad for
the genetic tendency to randomly clam up later.
"Aaah ... are you staying nearby?"
"Yeah, just up the street at the Clarion Inn," she answered as
they approached the checkout counter. "It's nice. I really love Florida."
He smiled. "Me too. I wish I got to spend more time here, but
travelling is an incredible experience too." Molly nodded.
Howie watched Molly for more of a reaction - he thought she may
spring the oh so casual "so-you're-a-Backstreet Boy", or the even more
subtle "you-know-you-look-awfully-familiar", but the nod was all he got.
He was overjoyed - at last, normality!
"Yeah, my parents have made a point of making sure we see most of
the US," she stated after a moment. "I feel really lucky."
"That's very cool," he said as he fished around in his pocket for
three pennies to exactly cover his grocery bill. He waited as she paidher
bill for her few purchases and tried to find a way to carry his fourbags.
Molly reached over and grabbed two. "I'll give you hand, if youwant."
Howie was surprised, but grateful. "Thanks!" he exclaimed, cutting
in front of her to open the door - after all, he was a gentleman.
They walked to his car - the relatively new purple Stingray was a
trademark that didn't really need to be pointed out - and Howie loaded in
his bags. "Thanks for the help," he said sincerely.
"No problem," she said back, grinning.
"Well, I better be off. My mom's planning a big dinner tonight for
my family so ... " he trailed off.
"Yeah, I gotta get back too. We want to hit epcot for a few hours tonight."
"Have fun!" He stuck out his hand again. "It was really nice to
meet you," he told her. And it really was, too. He wished he could sayshe
could call him sometime, but he knew better than to give out his numberso
freely in the business he was in - you just never knew. But he did want to
be friends with her, and he did know where she was staying ... He thought
for a moment or two and smiled secretly.
"You too," she said, shaking his hand and flashig him a smile.
"Have a nice dinner tonight!"
"Oh, Mama's cookin', we will!" he laughed, hopping in the car
behind the wheel. "See ya around!"
"Yeah, see ya!" she called. 'And just maybe,' he thought, 'shewill.'
Molly watched as Howie pulled out of the parking lot and drove
off, waving and honking as he did. She waved back and sighed.
She hadn't been proposed to, or swept away to a Caribbean island.
She didn't even have a picture or an autograph to prove any of it even happened.
But for some reason, that was quite alright.
